


Lückenbüßer

by Ollie_Mor



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: FULLY TRANSITIONED SCOUT, Gen, Internalized Transphobia, Lesbian Miss Pauling, One-Sided Attraction, Scout is successful with the ladies, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Scout, Unrequited Love, how is that not a tag?, if you disagree meet me in the pit, if you notice something else that needs tagging tell me, might i add
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:41:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26957500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ollie_Mor/pseuds/Ollie_Mor
Summary: Scout: *has Internalized Transphobia(TM)*Medic: "I diagnose you with man."Scout: "I'm cured!"
Relationships: Medic & Scout (Team Fortress 2), Miss Pauling/Scout (Team Fortress 2)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 54





	Lückenbüßer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bowl_Stealer_and_Bull_Screecher](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bowl_Stealer_and_Bull_Screecher/gifts).



> Thank you Bowl_Stealer_and_Bull_Screecher for help with translations!
> 
> And I have a tumblr now! It's barren, but I figure if anyone wants to they could submit requests. https://yallemagne.tumblr.com

It was late in the night when someone stormed into the infirmary. Medic startled, jumping away from the cheetah heart he'd been probing. Turning around, he found Scout, red-faced and seemingly out of breath. Perfect timing. 

"Ah! _Kleiner Vogel!_ How convenient for you to pay a visit!"

The lithe man kept his head down, giving no response. He raised a hand to pull his cap further down his face and muttered something unintelligible.

" _Was?_ " The German set his scalpel down and readjusted his glasses with a bloodied gloved hand. With his sight in order, he finally noticed the runner's clenched fists and shaking knees. The Bostonian tried desperately to keep still; Medic could see the failed effort even from the operating table. "Repeat yourself, _bitte._ " 

"Fix me, Doc..."

Medic waved him over, picking his tools and the bleeding heart off the table and to the other side of the room. "Close the door behind you; we wouldn't want a draft."

Scout did as instructed with no comment or complaint. Strange. When Medic turned back around, the runner was dragging himself onto the operating table as if the task posed many difficulties. Even stranger. _Improper diet,_ the physician's mind offered, _all that bubbly sugar water does not lend itself to a healthy body._

"Well, then!" Medic clapped once, hoping to cheer himself up at least. The atmosphere was far too dismal for him to operate. "I suppose a checkup is in order! Are you injured, Herr Scout?"

"Nah... but 'm hurtin'."

"Hurt? Where?"

Wordlessly, and without lifting his head, the runner pointed to his chest.

" _Herrlich!_ I have just the solution! Lay down, _und_ we will begin the transplantation!"

Scout's head shot up, but Medic has already turned away from him, grabbing the replacement heart from the tray. "Wh- transplant?! No! That is _not_ what I'm saying, Doc!"

" _Was?"_ The German frowned, regarding the heart in his hand with a look of longing. Out of the corner of his periphery, Scout grimaced. "You know I am busy, Herr Scout," he scolded with a pout on his lips. "If it isn't a successful heart transplant you want, then what is it?" he asked, setting the organ down and facing the younger man once again. 

The runner's hands were on his chest, clenching the cardinal red fabric tightly. 

A lightbulb appeared over Medic's head. "Oh, could it be pain from our previous operation?" Silly him, forgetting such a fun surgery. It wasn't often that his patients _asked_ him to saw off their flesh. Nor did they request to have new flesh grafted on!

The lithe man bit his lip and nodded.

"Well! Off with your shirt! I'll see what I can do!" With his spirits reignited, Medic wiped his hands free of blood and strolled over towards Scout.

The Bostonian pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the ground, earning a brief frown from the German, who preferred keeping his workspace spruce. He sighed, nudging the abandoned fabric to the side with his boot and stepping far into the runner's personal space. He held up his freshly cleaned hands and clicked his tongue at his cuticles, still stained with cheetah blood, before shooting the other man a questioning look. "May I?"

Scout nodded, and Medic placed his hands on the runner's flat chest. The younger man was never graciously endowed, a product of his physical activity and naturally fast metabolism, so the surgery had not changed much aesthetically--

Scout flinched as the doctor's thumbs passed over his scars.

\--but it did wonders for the runner's posture! No longer did the youth slouch when he walked, deducting a few inches from his height and making him appear shorter than Pyro. Nope! Instead, their Scout strutted out of BLU base toting stolen intel with his chest puffed, and his head held high!

At the moment, however, this was far from the truth. Instead, the Bostonian now curled in on himself, obstructing the physician's view.

Medic tutted and pulled him up by the armpits, correcting his posture and drawing a squeak from the mercenary. "The scarring is minimal. That is good to see, _ja?"_ He grinned, surveying his handiwork.

"Yeah... _great._ " 

The German's smile dropped once again. "What is the matter? I did well, did I not?" He pinched the younger man in retaliation.

Scout's hands flew up in defence. "You did, you did! It just- it hurts, okay?!"

The physician was growing frustrated. "Do you require morphine?"

Horror filled the runner's eyes at the idea of being put under. "No! That's not it!"

Not treatment- not surgery- what did he want? "Out with it then!"

"I want you to change me back!" Scout screamed. 

Medic's hands fell, and he regarded the runner with a bewildered look. " _Was?"_

Scout's eyes knitted closed as he began to cry. 

Medic scowled and gripped Scout by the shoulders. " _Was hast du gesagt?"_

"Change me back... please change me back...!" the runner sobbed.

The doctor began shaking the younger man. "What did you just say?!"

"I don' wanna-! Not when she-" he gasped out between breaths. "Change me back, Doc! Ya gotta!"

" _Nein!_ Why are you asking? Why would you want that?"

"She-she don't like it, Doc! She won't like me like this!"

" _Who?"_

" _Pauling!"_

What did Fräulein Pauling have to do with- 

Oh.

Medic ceased his movement. "Scout. That isn't..." Did he perhaps mean that Fräulein Pauling was insensitive towards people of Scout's nature? She'd never struck Medic as the type. 

"I'd... I'd been waiting, ya know?" the runner started, wiping away his tears with the back of his forearm. "I didn't wanna tell her till I was a real man, right? Classy women like her... they don't deserve getting tricked like that. An' they don't settle for some _half-assed_ bastard, right?"

While the German disagreed with the sentiment, the Bostonian was watching him expectantly, so he nodded.

"So, I waited, right?" 

Another nod. 

"An' I got the surgery an'- Doc, you did _amazing!"_

The physician's lips quirked up for a moment, and he answered without thinking: " _Danke._ "

"You're welcome," Scout replied absentmindedly. For a moment, he looked cheered up. Then, his face darkened. "I, er, uh... I told Miss Pauling. I told her how I felt about her. How I still feel about her!"

" _Und?"_ He could guess the Administrator's assistant's response. What he couldn't discern was how it pertained to the runner's reproductive organs. 

"I... I probably can't tell you this," Scout sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Nonsense!" Medic exclaimed, clapping to punctuate his statement. "I know many things, dear Scout, _und_ what I don't, I intend to find out. Oh! That rhymes!" he giggled at the realization.

Scout shuddered just a bit at the German's tone. "... she doesn't dig dudes."

Oh.

_Oh._

_OH,_ that made _sense!_ Silly Fräulein Pauling. The doctor chuckled. "An unfortunate twist for you, _Kleiner Vogel!"_

"That's... yeah. So, will you?"

"Will I what?"

"Change me back."

" _Change you back!_ What will that change?" Typically, Medic could never refuse an opportunity to operate on a willing subject. However, being told to fix what had been a triumphant first try on his part? Why he almost felt insulted!

"My _body,_ for starters! Miss Pauling'll like me better wit' tits, won't she?"

"She could." 

The Bostonian's face lit up. 

" _Jedoch!"_

That look of a kicked puppy returned. 

"Mamma or not-"

Confusion painted over Scout's dejection.

" _Milk-producing breasts_ or not," Medic amended, "her non-attraction will not improve if she still perceives you as male."

The runner bit his lip. "Then I'll be a broad. 'Was one for the start of my life..." His whole body trembled at the thought. "I can deal with going back."

Medic sighed and shook his head. " _Nein,_ Scout. There will be no going back. You were never female."

The Bostonian's eyes lit up. He looked pleased despite the bemusement displayed across his features. "Huh? But I had tits and a-"

The German clicked his tongue. "You had female chromosomes _und_ reproductive organs, _ja._ But did you ever feel like a woman?"

The younger man's nose scrunched up. "'Course not. Ma would get all excited to buy me all these new dresses an' teach me how to sew 'em, but I always liked wearing my brothers' dingy hand-me-downs much better."

Ah, so that's why he'd found Scout patching his own clothes after a battle. How interesting. Perhaps he could help with sewing up wounds while he was at it. " _Und,_ why do you think that is?"

"'Was a freak," Scout muttered.

The doctor chuckled. " _Nein! Nein!_ That is not it!"

"It's not!" The runner sounded amazed almost.

"The reason you don't feel feminine is that you are a man!" he exclaimed, patting the lithe man's head. "Silly Scout..." 

A smile crossed over Scout's face. Ah. Just as quickly, it fled. "Hey, wait! But that's not what I want."

"Is it not?" Medic had been so positive that it was.

"No! Miss Pauling is batting for the other team! I don't wanna be the pitcher!"

"A crock? For holding water?"

"No! I mean, like the one throwing the ball!" 

"What ball?"

"A big ball o' my love!"

"Oh." What a strange metaphor. "You do not want Fräulein Pauling to reject your affections."

"Exactly! See, you're finally getting it-!"

"But she already has," the German said all too abruptly.

"B-but if I were still a chick-"

Placing a firm hand on Scout's shoulder, Medic began: " _Kleiner Vogel,_ Fräulein Pauling's lesbian attraction is not an _excuse_ for her not liking you. It is one of her reasons. You don't feel attracted to every single female you meet, _ja?_ "

"I mean, maybe not family or my Ma, but all girls are pretty. That's like... _Word o' God._ Except for me back then." The lithe man was struck with an epiphany: " _That's_ why she'd never like me? 'Cause I'm not even pretty as a girl?"

" _Nein!_ " Medic gave Scout a gentle smack on the cheek. "That is far from what I'm saying! _Und_ remember what I said!" He planted his palms on the runner's cheeks, smooshing his face. "You are _male!_ I've made sure of that, now, haven't I?"

" _Tha's wha' I wan' ya ta fi'!"_ the Bostonian slurred out. " _Chan' meh back ta how I wa'!"_

"You'd like to be miserable again?"

Scout's gaze fell to the floor. He mumbled something intelligible.

" _Was war das?"_ Medic asked darkly, applying more pressure to his cheeks. 

" _Okay, okay- Jeezus, Ma'y, Joseh! Leggo!"_

The physician relented, though, not without a final pinch to the runner's cheek. 

Rubbing his face with an indignant pout, Scout repeated his mutterings: "I'm _"miserable"_ right now..." When Medic tilted his head in curiosity, he went on to explain himself: "Pauling ain't some _one-night-kiss,_ ya hear? She's a lady, a real _lady..._ no one I'd ever have a chance with... Some girls, ya know, they don't have high standards. An' that's no complaint comin' from me, _okay?!_ They'd smile at me all funny and place a big fat kiss on my lips, right?" He grinned, tapping himself on the lips. "Even after findin' out. That's how I knew they were a keeper... at least till the next morning. But then some gals ain't playing around, okay? They ain't got time for a fling with some..." he scrunched his eyes closed, " _...damn dyke._ "

" _Careful,_ " Medic crooned, patting the younger man's head. "I might mind your language, especially with what you now know about Fräulein Pauling."

" _Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!_ 'Course, I know that! There's nothin' wrong wit' her digging chicks! But it's different."

" _Wie?_ "

"It just is, okay?! I don't gotta explain!" Scout retorted before proceeding to explain in detail: "I get all dressed up, an' it's like I'm wearing one o' Spy's disguises. Girls come up expectin' a night to remember with some handsome rogue, not expectin' him to be missing his _dick!_ Ya know how pissed a broad can get when she gets tricked like that? Nearly lost my head a few times! An' that's fair 'cause I'm being all sneaky about it an' not tellin' anyone! Do ya know _why?_ Well, shit, have ya ever _been_ to Mass? That state woulda chewed me up and spat me out if I let the word spread! You know what some guys will do to guys like me, right?"

Medic nodded. The Bostonian was just about to continue when the German cut him off. "If that's so, why do you feel guilty?"

" _Huh?_ "

"You have good reason to not make your biology public, _ja?_ Why get defensive?"

"It's like..." Scout's expression turned sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck. "People like me don't get the luxury of... of takin' someone out an' not expectin' it all to go to shit... Gettin' my jugs lugged off... that was supposed to fix things..."

"Well, I think it has."

"How'ja figure?"

"For starters, you carry yourself with much more confidence after that surgery."

"Well, yeah..."

" _Und,_ how many girls have you charmed since then?"

"That's... like... well, _four..._ " the runner answered, his cheeks flushing. "But I don't want _four girls!_ I want _one lady!_ An' I want that lady to be Miss Pauling!" 

Medic nodded in understanding, though he was surprised at the reveal. Yet another dissimilarity between the runner and his lady-killer of a father. "Hm... perhaps you do. But does your attraction to Fräulein Pauling override your dysphoria towards your old body?"

Scout pouted at the question. "I'm feeling pretty shitty in a body she would never like."

"That's no reason to change your identity, _Kleiner Vogel._ I gave you wings! _Und_ now, just as quickly, you want to be rid of them!"

The younger man at least had the decency to look repentant. "I- c'mon, Doc. Ya know it's not like that..." He lifted a hand to offer comfort but was cut short by a scalpel being shoved in his face.

"I have half a mind to be very upset with you!"

Scout frowned at the blade, slowly guiding it away from his face before smirking up at the physician. "Where'd ya put the other half? Maybe you can make up your mind with both slices." He puffed his cheeks, trying hard not to laugh it his own joke.

Medic blinked, briefly confused, before joining the runner in his uproarious laughter. 

"Ya get it? Ya get it?"

"Yes, yes! Very clever!" The German sighed, wiping a tear from his eye. "Hoo... _Das war gut..._ I needed a laugh after all this melancholy."

" _Melon-collie?_ "

"Eh, close enough." The doctor tossed the scalpel he was holding somewhere across the room, apparently startling a cat that neither of them had been aware was in the infirmary. Oh! That's right! He had been reading up on Schrödinger's writings recently... he supposed that meant the cat was still alive. "Do you know why I refused your request, Scout?"

"Because it'd be a hassle to sew back on my tits."

" _Nein._ Well, _ja._ If I'd known beforehand, I might've preserved your mammary glands in the refrigerator."

"Well, where'd you actually put 'em?"

"Hmm..." Medic stroked his chin in thought. "...one, I certainly began using for baboon nursing..."

The runner's face turned green. "Ya know, I actually don't wanna know, that's fine."

The physician regarded the younger man with a look of bemusement. "But they're your glands, you deserve to know how I've repurposed them."

"Nah, I'm cool..." Scout replied sheepishly, "that's fine..."

"If you're sure," the doctor yielded.

"Oh, yeah, I am totally sure."

Silence.

"Where was I?"

"You were talkin' 'bout why you wouldn't change me back."

" _Ja!_ That's it! Can you guess why?"

The lithe man shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. "'Cause... 'cause of all those things you said... Ya know, about me being a dude an' not a dame?"

"Exactly! Do you understand what my treatment of you entailed?"

"Takin' off my tits and giving me a prick?"

"More than that, Scout. The operations I conducted were to make your body reflect what you are in _here,_ " he explained, tapping the runner on the forehead. 

The Bostonian rolled his eyes. "Yeah, 'cause it's all in my head."

"Specifically, your brain," the German amended.

"But like, _biologically,_ I'm a chick. Er, _was_ a chick."

Medic shook his head. " _Dummer Junge._ Sexually, you were female. Biologically, you _are_ male."

"Huh?"

"Psychology is a biological science as well, is it not?"

"Are ya calling me a _psycho?_ "

" _Nein!"_ The physician chuckled. "I am diagnosing you as male."

"You can just do that?"

"It is true, _ja?"_

"You can make it that simple?"

"It's always been that simple!" Medic punctuated the declaration with a clap. "You know, many of your problems could be solved if you used your brain."

"I did not come here to be insulted, ya know."

"But you _did_ come to be emasculated."

Scout's face flushed, and Medic broke into a fit of laughter. 

"I kid! I kid!" the doctor exclaimed, drawing a scoff out of the runner. He continued after a brief pause: "but it's true!"

"Why, I oughta-"

The Bostonian's threat was cut off by the German slapping him hard on the shoulder. "Oh, Scout! You are so fun to tease!"

"Yeah, yeah, get a laugh outta it."

"I will! There is no need to grant permission!"

Scout scowled and grabbed the physician by the collar, tugging him in close. "I'm gonna kick your ass one day-" Despite his threatening tone, Medic couldn't stop giggling, "-or some backstabbin' Frenchie is gonna come right up behind ya an' you won't be hearin' from me when ya need a hand, ya hear? Am I clear?"

" _Kristallklar!"_

The runner blew a raspberry, releasing the other man from his grip. "Imma assume that means yes."

Medic hummed, grinning broadly. "Do you feel any better, _Kleiner Vogel?_ " he asked, giving the lithe man's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"I guess... 'still hurts, though?"

"What does?"

"Like- I dunno! _My heart!"_ Scout thumped his fist against his chest. "I told Pauling how I feel, an' now my heart's broken."

"Broken..." He raised a hand to stroke his chin in thought. "Hmm... as in non-functional? _Kaputt?"_

The other man scoffed in response. "Yeah, _kaput!_ What else does broken mean, Doc?"

"Just checking!" Medic stepped away from the operating table, earning a suspicious look from the lithe man awaiting treatment. He approached the abandoned cheetah heart with a spring in his step and a manic grin crossing his face. Scout stared at him from across the room like he'd lost his goddamn mind, and he very well might have. Lifting the organ in his - still ungloved - hands, the doctor gave it a short sniff. "Hm! Still fresh!"

"Whatzit, Doc?"

The German spun around, pumping the muscle in his hands to revitalize it. "If your current heart is dysfunctional, this will do, _ja?_ " He held the now beating heart up like a child might proudly display their art project.

Despite his horror at the suggestion, Scout couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. "Yeah..." The runner laughed, afflicted with a sudden bout of mania. "Hells yeah, you crazy bastard!"

" _Wunderbar!_ Lay down, _und_ we will get this inside of you!"

"You got it, _Deutschbag!"_

**Author's Note:**

> Translations from German to English: 
> 
> Lückenbüßer - Stopgap; a quick fix  
> Kleiner Vogel - Little Bird  
> Was? - What?  
> Bitte - Please  
> Herr - Mister  
> Herrlich - Splendid  
> Und - And  
> Ja - Yes  
> Was hast du gesagt? - What did you say?  
> Nein - No  
> Fräulein - Miss; young lady  
> Danke - Thank you  
> Jedoch - However  
> Was war das? - What was that?  
> Wie? - How?  
> Das war gut - That was good  
> Dummer Junge - Silly Boy  
> Kristallklar - Crystal-clear  
> Kaputt - Broken; useless (it's spelt differently both times because "kaput" is the English spelling, I guess)  
> Wunderbar - Wonderful  
> Deutschbag - a corruption of the words "Deutsch" and "douchebag" 
> 
> Please comment. Feedback is my lifeblood.


End file.
